A year ago today was our first date. We looked at pictures from China, you took me to dinner even though you’d already eaten once. And we went on a walk.
We didn’t hold hands, didn’t touch. You didn’t even kiss me.
But you asked me questions. And you listened, really listened. Like I had always wanted someone to. And we laughed. And I smiled from the time you left… until now.
It was perfect. A year: hundreds of dates, goodnights, and please let him kiss me’s later. And I still think it was perfect.
